


As High as Honor

by StillKickingIt



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Lyanna Is Alive, Alternate Universe - Rhaegar lives, Asshole!UncleBrandon, Badass!Arya, Child Abuse, Dragons, F/M, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Politics, Regency, Rhllor, Sibling Incest, Underage Sex, War Of The Five Kings, yourgonnahatejonarryn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 03:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7205000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StillKickingIt/pseuds/StillKickingIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In alternative world were Rhaegar  never kidnapped Lyanna but married her at Harrenhal. Arya Stark is the daughter of the deceased younger brother of Brandon Stark. Arya and her twin brother Bran have never really felt at home with her Uncle. After her older cousin Sansa is married off to Crown Prince Aegon she is forced into a marriage with the elderly Jon Arryn. Arya and Bran begin their life in the Eyrie. While in the background the Stag begins to rumble in the Stormalnds and across the Narrow Sea the Black Dragon is ready to try for the Iron Throne one last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Today, we will be working on something that you for once you will enjoy.' Septa Mordane drowned, her robes sweeping across the room. 'Your cousin Sansa has already gone for her morning tea with her lady Mother but I saved my best lesson for the you. The bedding. '  
Lady Arya Stark groaned and smacked in her head to the table. Arya kept her back firmly up  against the wall sighing quietly. She hadn't minded sitting behind Sansa and all of her little friends, and now everything about Arya  made Sansa want to sneer _. Just another week until she leaves and never come back_ , her mind said. Sansa was betrothed to The Crown Prince. Aegon was prefect for her cousin, a pretty knight who cared very little for anything but glory at a tournament and the attention of a lady.  Sansa didn't care that her marriage was to take place on the exact day of the death of her Uncle- Arya's father. She closed her eyes at the memory of the last time she had seen her father. Unfortunately, she was stuck waiting for all of the men to ride off for the rebellion against the throne. The Iron Islands had risen up and her father, Ser Eddard Stark and Uncle, Lord Paramount Brandon Stark third of his Name and Warden of the North had been called to take passage to the northern Isles. She had waited for three hours till the last men including her father had trotted by. She had ran towards him and he had laughed. She was young, no older than seven. She cried and cried pleading that he stayed but as always he told her in a very serious manner that it was his duty to serve and that he must follow the King's will. He had ridden off out of the gates of Winterfell and she had never seen him again. Cut down by Balon Greyjoy. He had been in single combat with one of the man's younger brothers and just as he had been about to make the killing blow Balon stabbed him in the back  
'It will hurt more than anything else in your life,' The Septa announced dramatically. ' When a man takes you to bed it is his right by the seven to do. Your lord husband will need to be satisfied and you must do your duty. Otherwise he may shame you just as some lords do and bring Mistresses to court. It is the sign of a weak wife and usually their is something wrong on the women's part.'  
Arya began doodling on her page, giving the woman her none of her attention.  
Her Uncle had taken her and her brother Bran in after her father had died. Her mother was remarried after to a lord in the reach. Arya no longer remembered her face. She sent a letter once a year on her name day. When she was younger she would write every week but now she rarely responded to them. She knew that she had two younger brothers but she didn't care to know their names.   
'Arya! Pay attention you may be needing this sooner than you think. Your lord Uncle has informed me that he will soon find you a husband,' Septa Mordane explained. That caught her attention. She dreaded the thought of marring. She knew her husband would probably be far older and more of a strategic match. Her Uncle had never seen her as more than a breeding mare that he had the luck of being able to sell off.

“The reason that we are talking about the bedding is that.. After Sansa is wed to the Prince, you will wed.” For the first time in her life Arya saw pity for her in Septa Mordane’s eyes. The old women knew that she would never truly be able to take the role of a Lady. Though as a women that was the only role that she could have. A page ran into the study and went to Septa Mordane’s ear. He whispered something and her ear and her eyes widened. She turned to Arya and rushed her out toward the great hall,  
Something about the way that Mordane brushed aside her own lesson, or maybe the way her eyes looked pityingly alerted Arya to the gravity of the situation. Her heart seemed to plummet to the bottom of the stomach the way a stone would in the dungeon and she gathered her things, not even bothering to say goodbye before rushing out of the room. She had expected someone to be in the corridor, but the hallway was empty. Throwing the needle and thread in a nearby bin, she shoved everything else in a nearby page’s and sprinted down the corridor, keeping her mind off of the impending situation with her Uncle, _it has to be something about the engagement, but maybe it could be my horse is sick. Maybe I am doing badly with the maester... What if Bran got hurt while squiring in the Riverlands. I just want to run away from all of this..._  
She almost missed the door her mind was so wrapped up in her thoughts. As she walked into the solar, she found the her entire extended family. Robb, Sansa her Aunt and even young Rickon sat upon his mother’s lap. After several seconds of her holding her breath and her Uncle just sitting there in silence examining her, she couldn't take it anymore.  
'Is it Bran?'  
She realized that she was being rude to her Lord Uncle who looked a bit taken aback, but her Aunt Catelyn  was looking at her with pity, her Aunt usually never sparred her a glance but it seemed that now she deserved pity.  
'I apologise,  My Lord.' She replied calmly. 'I just wish to know the reason that I have been summoned?'  
Brandon looked at her with a passive expression. “ My dear Niece, I have brought you her to inform you that a betrothal has been made between you and Lord Jon Arryn'  Sansa and Robb gasped. Arya felt a weakness in her knees. Jon Arryn was fifty seven years old and was the Lord of the Vale.

“Surely you could find someone who is not old enough to be her own Grandfather? Father you can arrange a marriage for Sansa to a prince but all you could find for Arya is some far off Lord who is an decrepit wretch?” Robb said looking at his father with slight distrust. Brandon sighed, “Sansa is known for her virtues Robb. She is courteous and kind and is known to help the poor. Arya is the daughter of second son with no lands or money. The fact that Lord Arryn has accepted this offer is more than we could have ever hoped for.”

 

Her father had once promised her she would never have to marry if she did not want to. Arya felt that if he were not dead he would make well on his promise.

" Sansa is to be married in a week. That is when you shall leave for the Eyrie." Brandon did not betray any feelings. She knew what was coming but had to ask anyway.

“I don't understand Uncle?" She said with a puzzled brow. “Was I not to stay until my fourteenth name day?

 

"I made it clear that the sooner the better. Arryn is an old man who can’t wait a year." Arya felt such anger toward her Uncle. She would never see her home again because of him. She would live a life forced to bed a sick old man.

 

"Who will go with me to the Vale?" She would remain composed. Her Uncle did not approve of tantrums. She was not a little girl. She was a woman grown. Even though they would force her to leave she would not do them the dignity of crying in front of them. She was a wolf of Winterfell, more so than the rest of her family.

“You shall be given a staff to take care of you. Your Aunt found handmaidens for you and you will have three sworn shields that will serve as your protection. As for family… Sansa will accompany you half way their but then you will take the high road to the Eyrie. Alone. Your brother Bran will be waiting for you there. He has said that he will now be the spire of Lord Jon. You both should be very grateful that he is being so accommodating.”  

"Alright Uncle I will of course respect your will." She said with a calm voice void of any feeling. Her Uncle hated any displays of childish emotions as he called them.

 

"Alas you will. It was good of us to take you in after your mother turned tail and ran back to Brightwater. I wont be hearing complaining about how I never did anything for you girl” Brandon then stood up. "Cheer up, the Vale is one of the most beautiful places. You will be the lady of the Vale. Not a small kingdom you know?"

As she saw it as a means to her end more than anything else when she walked into the hallway she whispered, "I'm your brother’s daughter and you would send me to the end of the world. Away from my home, to the castle of an old lecher who probably has fantasies of young girls."

 

 

She spent the rest of the week making arrangements to leave her home. They would travel from Winterfell to the eyrie.  She had chosen a foreign woman named Shae mostly to piss off Sansa and her mother. They had said it was not proper for an Easterner to be the head handmaiden of a women from a great house. Brandon wouldn't be travelling with them; it would only be Sansa, a group of Stark men and her. She only cried when Maester Ludwin hugged her the night before her cousins wedding and the two days before she would be leaving the North for good. He had been the only friend she knew. "You'll do well My Lady. You'll be the lady of the Eyrie. You'll have your own castle. Cheer up girl."

'The wedding will be in an hour,' Her Aunt Catelyn said. She looked towards her niece, a small smile forming on her face.

It seemed as if Arya was ignoring her Aunt. Watching the guests come in, the dark-haired girl looked out the window. She could see the King. His silver hair perfect along with his golden crown. He was older but still quite Handsome. His Wife the Queen was being escorted by her younger brother. The Tyrells were nearby as well. Viserys stood alongside his wife Margaery. Her aunt could sense that she would get nothing from the girl and left the room.

'You need to put this dress on.' Shae opened the closet door beside her. She pulled a southern grey dress that would look beautiful on anyone but her.

'Yes,' Arya muttered, 'It's charming.'

Shae sighed, 'You may not want this but it will turn out to be the right decision in the end. You will never have to worry about becoming an old maid. It's not ideal but you must understand that Jon Arryn will not live forever. He may not even live till you reach twenty.'

Arya turned around. Her expression was plain, but tense. She felt hollow inside. Her entire existence altered. She looked over to the side table. On it was a box with her name on it. She opened the box to reveal the traditional necklace that had a falcon on it. Shae took it from her hands and laced it around her neck.

'From your husband to be. Not quite sure why he was so willing to give you all of this but you’re lucky.'

Arya nervously smoothed her dress down for the fourth time that day. Shae and her Aunt had warned her not to ruin the dress, but Arya kept worrying about all of it _. So far this isn't a complete disaster_ , she thought, checking the golden watch on her wrist. She knew that all of the guest would be aware of her soon to be marriage. She walked down the corridor that led to Sansa’s door. She as her cousin would be expected to be there. She knocked.

'Come in,' Sansa called softly.

To her cousin's surprise, Sansa was already in her wedding dress, looking perfectly composed. She looked around and to her. 'Can you help me with my hair? I can't quite seem to do it up.'

“I hope that you are happy on this day?' Arya asked hesitantly, doing as she was bid. She could care less but Sansa seemed so enamored that she had almost no time to even glance at Arya. Usually she would subject her to hateful glances.

'I am happy,' Sansa frowned slightly. 'I really love him. Is that odd? I have only spoken to him twice. But he is so handsome and sweet.'

'Oh darling,' Her mother encompassed her in her arms. 'This boy will love you till his dying breath. True love is the love you hold for him. I just know that you will have a love story that will be remembered forever!'

_Why is it that I never get what I want_? Arya asked herself. _Can't for once I just be happy...Is that too much to ask? They sit here and talk about love and handsome men and I prepare to leave my home forever._

'You know it will be so horrible for me once you are gone,' Her mother smiled sadly. She wished that she could have something more to say but all she could do was hug her daughter. 'Just remember that I will always love you. I expect letter’s every week!"

Her mother finished with Sansa’s hair and led her out of the room. Arya was alone again.

“I expected to find you sulking somewhere.” She turned to see Bran grinning in the door way with his arms crossed. She tackled him in a hug messing up both of their robes. Her twin had been gone for four whole years. He was much taller with short hair and a smug grin on his face, he now sported muscles and what looked like the beginnings of a beard. His grin vaporized when he asked, “Arya are you okay? When I heard I came as fast as I could. They wanted me to go straight to the Vale but I knew that it would be better for me to come to you.”

'It's funny,' Arya said. 'I thought that I would be so angry, what with the sudden marriage but I guess that I just feel numb to it all...'

'You're the most wonderful girl I've ever met,' Brandon started. “I promise you that I won’t leave your side again. We can make a home together in the Eyrie. Forget Jon Arryn. Forget Uncle and the rest. We’ll win in the end.'

'Will we,' Arya just looked frightened.

She looked beautiful in a an elegant, grey dress, her hair intricately wrapped in multiple buns that was the fashion nowadays. She walked into the great hall down the pews with her brother escorting her. As a member of the bride’s family she was supposed to be seated in the front, She was seated in the second row beside Mace Tyrell. The pudgy balding man smiled up at her. She returned it with less emotion.

“Ah my dear are you Arya Stark?”

'Right here,' the girl replied, holding out her hand.  He kissed it and moved so that Arya and Bran could sit. She began to chat idly while eying the room around her. The north had never before seen so many nobles. It was truly a royal wedding. It seemed that the room was chaos. The talking seemed to dominate all other noise.

'Arya,' Bran said teasingly, “do you believe that it will be the day that Sansa finally trips.'

'It's such a shame that she is to be married,' Arya put on a look of dismay. 'It would be so horrid for her. She might be scarred for life.'

'I can't wait,' Bran grinned signaling across from his sister. 'Sorry Sansa.'

'I know that if she marries this boy now we never talk to or even see her again,' Arya said genuinely.

'I just hope she will be happy,' Bran replied matter-of-factly. He then turned to his sister with a grin on his face,  “Was that realistic? I’m practicing for after the wedding.”

'Oh yes' Arya said with a grin. It was well known that when their cousin turned up she would most definitely be complaining and upset that no one had wished her a happy marriage. Sansa had made their lives a living hell when they were younger. Saying how they were burden’s on her father and mother and that Arya would have to be sold to a butcher for meat as no one else would want her.

She heard, rather than saw, Cersei Baratheon arrive with her son and husband in tow.  She was everything that was expected. The recently widowed Lady of Storm’s End looked the part in her black The anger exclamations could be heard from the top of the castle as she engaged Sansa in a conversation the younger woman really didn't want to have. When Catelyn arrived, her daughter looked relieved.

'It seems that it is time. We all have to enter the grand hall."

 

Catelyn Stark placed her hand over her husband Brandon's hands. . Unlike most of the arranged marriages, Cat had always enjoyed a close relationship with her husband. She was very much in love with him.  He turned and smiled at her with adoration in his eyes.

The scene was picturesque. The bride was at the entrance of the hall as trumpets played. She looked out to see at least two hundred people seated. At the front was a large altar. In front of it was a Septon. Sansa then saw who her husband. Her prince, Aegon Targaryen. He was tall with short silver hair. His eyes were a breath taking violet. He smiled at her. Once she had gotten herself to the front of the altar she took a deep breath. Her eyes began to water as the official began to speak the words. Sansa could not believe that she would be given this honor.

 

'You may now say your vows,' The man declared, The septon then commanded "Look upon each other and say the words,", at which the bride and groom recited their vows, both of them speaking simultaneously. They began listing off the names of each of the Seven, in whose sight they are wedding. "Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger..." The Prince then turned to Sansa and said, "I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days," whist Sansa said it again at the same time,"I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days."

They sealed their vows with a kiss and the room roared with applause. Arya turned towards her brother with a grim expression, “I want to leave.”

“Well,” Bran huffed, “I guess we can go to the feast early though-“

“I need to leave the North now.” Bran looked at her with a quizzical expression. She began to cry. Nobody seemed to notice as the couple paraded down the hall. “I cannot travel with fucking Sansa and her awfully happy husband. She won’t stop reminding me that I will never be happy.”

Bran nodded and they got up. He went to his Uncle who still seemed to be cheering. Arya looked on with her eyes filled with tears. She could see her uncle looking slightly upset but as usual he nodded and imminently seemed to forget about what had upset him. Sansa was talking to Catelyn and seemed upset.

"Mother I don't want to go. I’ll miss you and father and Robb; we were supposed always be there for each other but we may never-." She stopped with tears in her eyes. She was to be the wife of Crown Prince, tears would not befit her now. She heard tales of the Red keep, the men said it was a hot, ruthless place. She looked at the crown prince and she supposed he was quite a catch. She was overwhelmed, it was incredible. She would be Queen one day. Sansa looked over to see her two cousin’s leaving the room. Arya looked back at Sansa with a vacant expression on her face.

 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

 

 

As they travelled South, Arya learned many things from the guards and Bran. The Vale was very mountainous and was based in the eyrie. The nobility was mostly of Andal descent with the first men of the region living among the wilderness like savages. Bran had remarked that if the Andal conquest hadn’t stopped at the neck they may have been living as the clans of the vale. Elsewhere in Westeros it seemed that problems had risen with the Stormlands. King Rhaegar had refused Lord Baratheon’s marriage offer between his son Joffery and the Princess Daenerys. He had instead offered the Hand of the King his friend Edmure Tully in marriage to Mrycella Baratheon. This has caused Lord Robert to respond in a highly typical manner by sending the messenger’s hands back to the King.

She remembered the Princess; She was beautiful, regal. Everything that could ever be wanted in a Queen. She then thought of the loud and brutish Joffery. A very ugly kind of person. Something that would never had worked. They stopped at various inns; it took them almost three weeks to reach the Northern lands. She learned a lot about her betrothed, Jon Arryn was supposedly a very honorable man. He was the master of laws for King Aerys but had quit the council after the King went mad. He had prevented all out war when her Aunt Lyanna had been taken. Lyanna had become the King’s second wife. He had also trained her father, which in her opinion was nice but also gross. Brandon Stark was to squire for him as he had been a proficient commander during the war of the Nine penny Kings. After a fashion he was to be a knight of the Vale.  As they rode into the vale she began to see the beauty of it. When they got to the Bloody Gate. The Eyrie straddled the top of a peak of the Mountains that seemed to rise several thousand feet high above the valley floor below that they stood on. The group approached by the narrow causeway near the high road. They passed through three way-castles guarding the ascent - and then, walked in single file, for the passage was guarded by archers. Bran had told her the Eyrie is considered impregnable to any attack, and its defenses have never been overcome. The castle wasn’t as large as Winterfell or even Riverrun. The welcome party was a small one, a maester, an old knight and a tall serious old man. He couldn't be called ugly but he wasn't young enough to be handsome. Jon Arryn was serious, his features sunken and his eyes gaunt, like the castle itself he seemed drawn off.. Ever since they crossed into the Vale a bad feeling had set in her stomach. She shivered a little when she went into the courtyard. The elevation had made her light headed. Her brother helped her off of her horse.

"Brandon Stark." Lord Arryn said with a greeting, almost a ghost of a smile on his face.

"Lord Arryn." Bran said just as formally. Bran bowed his head. Arya then stepped forward.

"Lady Arya." Jon Arryn addressed her. Arya curtsied, never forgetting her first impression. Jon Arryn seemed to almost have a wistful expression. His face didn't betray any emotions though, when she curtsied . She was used to men looking at her with nothing more than annoyance. This man however merely glanced at her with sadness and fear.

 

"My lady you will find your room will be beside your brother until the wedding tomorrow. You will keep the room for your own personal use." Lord Jon Arryn was a gracious host. He led them inside the surprisingly pretty castle. It was truly beautiful although it lacked some grandeur that Winterfell had. She would be in charge of running the staff once she was the Lady wife of Jon Arryn. The Maester led them out into another court yard to a large tower. He informed them that this would be their personal quarters and that their staff would have rooms below their own. He then left them in the grand hall and went to attend to the other guests he said.

The master of their guard, Sir Bronn who had known Arya since she was a small child and he had been just a sellsword, was sitting with his men sharpening his sword. "So it seems that we have found ourselves a golden goose? Arya Stark, A great lady.. You’ve got to be shittin’ me!"  He motioned to the hall.

 

"Bronn? Should I have left you to guard Sansa and her whining?" She smiled frostily and was glad when Bronn smirk dropped. She sighed; this place was to be her home from now on. At least the bed was soft and the tower was cozy. She would at least be able to stay with Bran and Shae. Jon Arryn seemed to avoid being in her presence. He retired early walked off with his cane.

 

The next day came sooner than she would have hoped. The Arryn’s kept the Seven, she'd known but it seemed strange to in a Sept. She wore a blue gown; it was beautiful, made of fine silks and fitted perfectly to her figure. She brought Shae into her room with her; the young woman helped her put her hair in one of the southern styles. She wore her necklace. Her father gave it to her on her last name day he had been alive.

 

"You look beautiful girl."  Shae smiled at her. Arya smiled tightly too. All her fire would be wasted in these cold lands. She wished for the hundredth time that her father were here. Her brother waited outside her door. He commented on her beauty.

 

"Don't worry Arya, your husband to be will be good to you, to me as well. As it is. Do your duty and give the man sons. Give him sons and we never have to bow to Uncle Brandon or anyone else again."  Bran told her as they walked to the Great Sept. It was filled with the lords of the Vale. They all rose as she walked in. Trumpets played as she walked with her brother down the hall. The Nobles did not look as rich or powerful as the nobles that were at the Royal wedding but they looked proud.

Lord Arryn stood there with a Septon in front of the altar. The ceremony was surprisingly fast. The septon talked about the gods and how the mother would bless them. Finally they came to the part that she knew, "Who gives this woman?"

 

"I Brandon Stark, Grandson of Lord Rickard Stark of the North do." Her brother said with a strong voice. He looked at her with a reassuring smile. She her breath leave her body when her stark cloak was removed. Jon Arryn put on a much lighter baby blue cloak. She looked to his old sagging hands as he fastened the cloak on her shoulders.

They looked at each other in the eyes for the first time. Her husband kissed her roughly, nothing like the she had ever felt. His lips were dry and chapped. His breath stank. She didn't feel anything for this man, not an ounce of anything but hollow feeling.  


 ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

The feast was a grand affair. The Lords and Ladies of the Vale all were sat in the Great hall, they all were coming to the head table to swear oaths. She met with Ser Donnel Waynwood and had a grand time, her husband introducing her to Lords and Ladies for the best part of the evening. Much to her surprise they all seemed very kind and courteous. The Lords had commented on how they had respected her lord father, which brought tears to her eyes while Brandon squeezed her hand. Jon's bannermen were mostly in armor thought one man wore a highly fashionable tunic. He had a finely combed moustache. He stared at her with interest. Her thoughts of the man were cut short by a shout.

"Time for the bedding ceremony! Grab the little lady!" The men were gentle with her a few tried to grope her but Ser Donnel, her new vassal tried to defend her honor. He was a very nice man who was the Knight of the Bloody Gate. She met him yesterday after he returned with them from the bloody gate.  She was laid on the bed with little grace.

"My lady." She turned to see a very naked Jon Arryn. His skin seemed to sag like the rest of his body. The only thing that was not sagging was his hard member. He looked at her with leering eyes. All of the earlier kindness wiped away. He slowly was moving towards her.

 

"My lord." She replied trying to be ladylike as possible. She was a maiden and didn't know the ways of the bed chamber, she always imagined that she would do this with someone around her age or that she knew. She tried to blush when he approached her and lowered his head so it was an inch away from hers. He licked his lips and she held back vomit that was at the back of her throat.

He was not as gentle as could be he lay almost over top of her. He forced entry. Arya gasped when he began to push inside of her. Her lord husband whispered close to her ears. "Forgive me my lady. It will only be painful the first time." Arya merely nodded shakily, keeping her pain to herself. Her lord husband pushed on. Cersei cried a little, it burned as the tears that rolled out of her eyes. Nothing could fully prepared her for this and she felt that all she wanted to do was go home. Leave and go back to Winterfell and to her toys and be carried by Robb and be teased by Sansa. Oh why did she have to do this?

"Please stop, No please…." She closed her eyes whimpered when her lord husband moaned and stilled inside of her. She wondered if she would be able to even go through even one more night of this. Jon spilled inside of her; he rolled over top of her. They didn't speak at all. She feigned a smile with tear leaking down her face. He sighed, "Forgive me." Jon stood up from the bed. He left her alone. For the first time that night she was grateful. She rolled over to her side and curled into a ball. She let out a sob at the thought of facing him in the morning.

 

 ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

Her husband was never around her for more than a few hours. He woke up hours after everyone else and would be in council for hours or drilling Bran. He ruled his lands generously. She stayed mostly in the tower but to learn mathematics, history and lineage. The day after the wedding she began her duties. She got court gossip from her cousin who had been forced by her mother to write to them to keep up family ties. The queen was sick. Lysa Tully had a lover even though she was betrothed to a Tyrell; it kept Arya and Bran at least away from the politics of the Vale. She wrote to her Aunt in Winterfell as well, Aunt Catelyn informed her that Robb hadstill not been betrothed to any and was resisting a northern girl that his mother had put forward. Brandon was at King's Landing too, visiting the Sansa and talking with the King.

 

Four months later she knew she was pregnant. She wasn't happy or sad with the news but she knew that her duties in the bed chamber would be severely lessened if she could give him a son. She had assumed she would have children eventually. She hoped it was a boy, if she had one and then a spare she wolu dnever have to be fucked by that sorry sack of shit again.

She consulted with maester Callis who had his suspicions. She was pregnant, probably conceived within the first month of  the marriage. She didn't like her husband, but she tolerated him for she knew that his time was short. He visited her chambers every night and every night she wept. After a while Shae would come in after to comfort her.

 

That night when he came to her bedchamber she stopped him before he could remove his clothes. "My lord, I have something to tell you." She said trying to sound as brave as possible. "I am with child." She smiled and was surprised when he kissed her a little too harshly.

 

She was shocked and as usual didn't return his kiss. "Forgive me my lady. I am overcome with happiness by the news."

 

He didn't touch her that night but kissed her again and left her quarters. Arya was quite happy. She was glad to be on her own.

 

Her pregnancy was difficult and she did feel tired, she tired to eat but would only vomit the food back up. According to the maester she was still a little on the young side as she was only just tuned fourteen. Sansa sent her own congratulations with words of how their children would one day play together. She wanted to write back saying that her children would never play with dragon spawn but she was a lady and as such she sent back how she would be more than happy to. Jon paid attention to her now, her belly bloomed and the baby moved. Jon smiled whenever he saw her belly move, he would talk about his previous wife and how he had felt about being a father. The bay kicks took a lot out of her and she could not work too hard as it would begin to stress her child, her husband had decreed that if it was a boy then he would be Jon the second of his name. It was at this time that it was decreed that a grand tournament for all the realm would be hosted outside the eyrie near the bloody gates. The King and royal court would be in attendance.

"Brother? If you die in this tournament I will kill you."

 

Bran smiled at his sister’s comment. They had left the stables of the Eyrie after much preparation for their journey. They had rode together in a carriage because of Arya’s pregnancy. Jon had permitted that Bran could enter both the melee and the joust. Arya knew that Bran was good but she still had fear for him.

They passed through two long parapets built into the stone of the mountains. The pass of the bloody gate was narrow where it met the gate, watched over by twin watchtowers, joined by a covered bridge of grey stone that arches above the road. Archers are positioned atop the cliffs along the length of the narrow ravine, and train their aim on any who approach the gate. At the moment they all seemed to stand at attention for the Lady of the Vale.

 It was the one way to enter and leave the Vale. Arya yearned to be far away from the smells and noises that plagued the city that they entered into. Exploring the lands was one of the many things that in her current condition she was not allowed to do.

There were few things Arya liked more than exploring with Bran. She remembered many of days and nights that they would look through the crypts of Winterfell to try and find Bran the Builder. Now she was confined to sit in a chair all day with Ladies of court as a tournament was held in her ‘honor’.

 

"Do you protest?" Bran turned to him. "You could cheer for our cousins husband the great Prince Aegon? Or maybe our other cousin the Dragon-wolf Prince Jon of Summerhall?"

 

"That would be certainly awful," Arya said with a smirk, "I prefer Ser Brandon Stark, The Wolf who soars."

 

"Ser eh? Lets not get ahead of ourselves," Bran chuckled, knowing his  sister wanted her Lord husband to knight him and be done with it. He had tried to explain to her several times that you had to do something impressive to actually earn a knighting. She had just shrugged at him and smirked. He did hope that he could prove himself to lord Jon. If he could become a knight he might be able to woo Meera. He had loved her since he was eleven years old.

"Are you prepared for the tournament?"

"Aye," Bran said, he was ready to break the best riders that the kingdoms had to offer, he knew he would do better in the melee though as it had always suited him. He had been training and riding hard since he had been told by Jon that he was to enter the tournament.

When he wasn't training, he was watching his over his baby sister, _baby by only a minute!_ She would always remind him. Trying to ease the suffering she felt constantly. It had not been easy for him either. Trying to have respect for a man who basically rapes your sister every night is hard. He had come very close to punching Jon Arryn in the Face many times. His sister was his weaknesses. The training yard of the Eyrie provided him an opportunity to study from some truly gifted Knights. There, he watched many knights of the Vale do battle and he had been taken under the wing of Lord Yohn Royce who was an outstanding general and a skilled warrior.

It was in watching Ser Donnel Waynwood Bran notice how the knight used his weight to his advantage during a fight. He understood that in the Melee he would need to wait and conserve his strength so that it would be between him and a more tired and heavier fighter. That was how he would have a chance in the melee.

 

"If you win the melee," Arya sounded pleased, "You carry the honor of a Stark with you Bran."

 

He was to be the only northern nobleman who would enter the lists. He heard that it was quite unusual for a northerner to be taking part but he didn’t care. He had squired for Lord Brynden Tully and had seen Tourneys before. He wanted to show them that a northerner could do much more than they thought. Let them see, he would not allow the southerners to bother his sister or shame her. He was aware of the expectations Jon had of him. He would ride with his sisters favor and win her glory.

 

"I will show the might of the north," Bran promised, hoping to make an example out of the Crown Prince and his cousin. Famous southern knights who knew nothing of actual hardships. His words earned him a an eye roll from Arya who had always said he was a bit to serious when it came to Tourneys. He knew that he was so he but that didn’t mean it wasn’t important.

 

Arya let out a raspy laugh. "Bold words, my kin," a grin stretched across her tired face, "but I've seen you naked." She shook his head in dismay.

 

Bran tilted his head back and let out a howling laugh. "Arya did you ever think that we would beeling this way."

 

He wondered how long the tourney would take. He hoped that it was before the baby came so that Arya would not have to give birth in the middle of the tourney. She looked dreadful but the maester said she had at least two months until she would give birth. Bran had been keeping it a secret but if he won anything he would name her his Queen of love and beauty. He knew that he could never give her back what she had lost; namely her childhood. But everyday he would endeavor to make her smile at least once.

His musings were interrupted at the sound of the carriage coming to a hault. The door was opened and light came through. Bran immediately had to hide his frown when he spotted the Crown Aegon and his wife coming towards them.  Following behind the Prince was Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard as well as a handful of  guardsmen.

To think that this Order was once filled with men of exceptional skill and valor such as Ser Aemon the Dragonknight and Ser Duncan the Tall. Now, its ranks tainted with men unworthy of the honor. Bran had grown up on tales of great knights but he already knew that he hated Jaime Lannister, most known for plotting with the current King to kill King Aerys. It was a well known fact that they did not talk about

 

Despite his respect for the history of the Kingsguard he was still wary of them. No one could question the skill of The Sword of the Morning, Ser Arthur Dayne or Ser Barristan Selmy. Yet these supposed great men did nothing as the Mad King murdered many only to be brought down by the young Jaime Lannister.

"My prince, cousin, always a pleasure. We hope that you had an enjoyable journey." Bran knelt and bowed his head out of obligation then any actual respect for the heir to the Iron Throne. Sansa seemed to be staring absentmindedly up at her husband. He gave Bran a smirk and looked at the pregnant form of Arya with veiled disgust at her swelled stomach.

 

 

The eldest son of the King didn't bother to hide his disgust for the Vale and its lords. He was dressed in black and red silks, a fire breathing dragon embroidered into his finery. He wore several rings on his fingers, and a sword clung to his side.

"Does it always smell this vile here? Honestly it’s like a horse shit everywhere," Aegon brought a hand to his face as if trying to wave away the smell. His words and gesture brought anger to the forefront of Bran’s head. Arya looked at him with contempt.

"My pardons," Bran apologized, "I was not expecting the honor of your presence so soon. My sister and I have not yet had time to pile up all the horse shit, we will get right on top of that."

"Ah a joke," Aegon narrowed his eyes at Bran. "It seems that you think you are quite funny SQUIRE Brandon Stark."

The Prince's insults of Bran seemed to effect the women more. Arya tightened her grip on Bran’s arm while Sansa seemed to play with an invisible string on her dress. It seemed both boys were ignorant of their reaction.

"It does not matter it was hardly a good one. Anyways good-cousin, we just wanted to see how your sister was doing." His violet eyes seemed to flash, and a smirk at his lips. "Sansa wanted to know if she was pregnant or just had gained quite an appetite since arriving at the eyrie. I’m still not sure."

Brans stomach curdled. His hand twitched, wanting to go for his sword that was by his side, but he stopped himself. He would not allow himself to get baited by the Crown Prince. The boy only seemed to egg Bran on wanting a fight.

"She seems rather ill?," Aegon said to gain a reaction, "that would be from having an old fool like Jon Arryn fucking her every which way." He paused. "Though the only plus for you Lady Arryn is that you could be a widow before the tourney is done. I’ve seen the man and it nearly made me vomit from the jowls on him. "

 

His stomach rolled in indignation. It took every ounce of his self control to restrain his fists from meeting the Prince's face. Bran smothered the glare he wanted to shoot at the boy prince. Fighting to keep his emotions was all he could do. The boy seemed to want to fight him but Bran knew that the Kingsguard would slice his head off the second he drew his sword.

 

"It seems that I got the pretty Northern girl while your sister who is quite… interesting to look at, was given to a man who can barely see," the Crown Prince boasted.

 

The Kingsguard chuckled at their prince's words. While the Sir Bronn and his men  glared back at the insults being given to their Lady. Bronn was fiercely loyal to the two as their father had hired him when he had left for the Iron Islands. He was only supposed to be in Winterfell for a couple of months but when Ser Eddard had died he had stayed on. He was the closest thing the two had to a father now.

Bran felt the burning rage that lashed and churned inside his stomach.

"How dare you nephew? This is a relative of your wife and the wife to one of the most important vassals,” the voice called out. Aegon’s eyes went wide as he saw his Uncle Oberyn and his paramour striding towards them. Bran and Arya looked at each other confused.

"I am to be King!" He shook as his Uncle approached. "I can do what I want!"

 

"Your Grandfather thought he could do whatever pleased him," Oberyn said. "Mayhaps you should ask your guard behind you what happened to him."

 

"You dare," Ser Jaime face darkened in outrage. It was quite Taboo to mention the death of King Aerys in the new court of his son.

 

"You threaten the Prince in front of his Kingsguard?" Ser Oswell Whent stepped forward, a hand on the pommel of his sword, his sworn brother, Ser Jaime did the same.

“I am not threating the prince Ser Oswell I am educating my nephew,” Oberyn turned to Bronn, “The next time Ser Oswell speaks, kill him. There; That was a threat, see the difference?”

Ser Oswell roared and drew his sword. He expected the guards of house Arryn to back off. They didn’t.

"No need to get blood on your pretty white cloak," Ser Bronn's eyes were steely as he looked at the Kingsguard. "The Lady Arryn is gonna go now. If I see one of you shites anywhere near her you’ll be needing new Kingsguard alright?."

 

Ser Oswell was stunned. He had no idea who this guard was but he couldn’t be a knight, a sell  sword perhaps. A tension was all around them as Arya began to walk towards her tent, Men on both sides looked ready to come to blows over words exchanged by the nobles. As they walked away Arya shot Bran a glare and he returned a sheepish smile.

A swell of pride filled Bronn upon seeing his charges responding to the bastard Prince. They kept their mouths shut in the face of two Kingsguard knights and a handful of guards. If it had come to a sword fight Bronn had no doubt that they would be able to face all the odds.

 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

"It wasn't a threat," Bran said, trying diffuse the situation as they talked to an angry Jon Arryn, "Just a history lesson that we didn’t even give. He insulted Arya many times my Lord.”

Jon looked skeptical as he sat in front of the two. They both had looks of shame on their faces even though they had done their best to stay out of a fight with Aegon. Silence was what followed.

"My Lord," Bronn voice came out clearly, "The Prince Jon would like to meet his cousins, he brings with him his mother Queen Lyanna."

 

Jon seemed to jump up in surprise at the news of the Prince and the Queen. He was shocked to see that they would want to see his wife and good brother. Not to mention, it was known that Brandon and Lyanna had a falling out after she married Rheagar. He looked at his wife and good brother with trepidation. It was said that the Queen was imposing and serious. Jon motioned to let them in

 

"My Queen and Prince," Jon declared, "I would be pleased to introduce my wife Lady Arya Arryn of the Vale and my good brother Brandon Stark, my squire." At his words, the knights and men stood aside allowing Bran and Arya to see a beautiful women walking up. She had soft brown locks that seemed to cascade down her side. Her face was kind and her cheek bones defined. Her eyes were the same grey as theirs. Beside her was what looked like their father reincarnated but younger. The boy looked at them with slight fear.

 

 

"Oh my you are very much Ned’s children, “The Queens voice filled the room, "And you have the look of a Stark like my Jon here. I am so happy that we are able to meet, I wanted for us to come to Sansa’s wedding but… the north will never forgive me the way I ran away not doing my duty," A soft laugh from the Queen set Arya and Bran at ease.

“I am happy to meet you my Queen,” Arya curtsied and bran bowed staying silent. Jon gave them a small smile and Bran and Arya smiled back, They all were similar in their shyness.

"Jon talk to your cousins," The Queen urged her son forward. There was nothing he could do but walk towards them and start to talk. They began with how life was were they were born. Jon told them what it was like to squire in the reach and Bran talked about the riverlands. They all shared laughs as the Queen sat silently while her relatives conversed. They sat for hours talking about family and the tourney. Eventually Bran and Jon talked about jousting while Arya talked with the Queen about her upcoming baby. When it was time for the first of many feasts they parted ways and went to the outdoor pavilion.

They walked towards the feasting tent and climbed the steps before reaching the grand table that they were seated at. Bran sat beside Arya and Lord Yohn, to see Sansa and her husband sitting at her table working on calming him down with the Lannisters nearby.

Instant relief came to him upon looking to his good friend Bronn standing beside them, he patted Bran’s shoulder and smiled down at him.

"Bronn please make sure that Arya is safe tonight." Bronn's blue eyes widened at his request.

"Don’t I always?" Bronn began to scold, but stopped and gave him another nod.

He moved across the table and without speaking pulled Arya into his arms from where she sat and held her close.

"Bran?" Arya said, "What's wrong?"

 

From the corner of his eye, he could see a fuming Prince Aegon staring up at them from the other direction who seemed irate at being put out, He leaned back, so that he could meet her eyes, but his arms remained around her. "I will always protect you. No matter what happens I won’t leave your side.”

"I know that," She frowned. "is this about what happened with the prince?"

She inwardly chided herself for letting the Prince get to both Arya and her brother.

Bran pushed out a breath of annoyance, not wanting to dwell on his on his emotion that he was trying to hide away from his sister.

"I'm fine," he assured her, smiling. "I'm fine, dear sister I promise. He just made me angry the way he spoke to you. All I can think is that he will be the future King,"

Arya stroked his hair. Her eyes closed, a smile came to her lips, "It will all be okay in the end, he will leave and we will be here, alone," her voice gentle, she separated from him and smiled again.

"The Prince," Bran muttered, he shook his head and broke a piece of bread, "If he dares to disrespect you again- I won’t take that. This is our home."

"Don’t be stupid," Arya’s face creased with anger, she slapped Bran’s shoulder and took a sip of her wine.

"Don’t worry," Bran spoke bitterly. "He threatened to hurt you. You’ll be safe."

"My protector," she said. Bran gave her a lopsided smile. The feast was becoming quite rowdy as dancing had begun.  Jon Arryn had already left for the night and most of the older nobles as well. Ser Bronn and Ser Donnel were both standing guard beside the twins as they were the last two at the high table.

When she stood up to leave, her belly kicked and she gasped. "The Babe is kicking!" she gave him a frantic smile. In that moment all Bran could do was grin.

 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

The week after nearing the beginning of the joust Bran found himself breaking fast with the Knight  of Flowers. Though, it was quant Ser Loras seemed pleased that he had secured time with the brother of the Lady of the Vale. It was quite boring conversation about the tourney and how long it would take. This Small tent was a colorfully decorated with spacious seating and table space to sit the three comfortably at its benches.

He was sitting across from him was his sister, Arya who looked very sick. She was wearing a dress in the southern fashion, that wasn't well suited for her.  She looked as if the shade of green that she was wearing was maybe closer to her skin tone than was needed.

"You are beautiful as ever, my lady," Ser Loras declared at their table. Bran snorted which earned a glare from both Arya and Loras, “What? Sorry I can’t lie to my baby sister… you look like shit Arya,”

"Thank you so much for that brilliant observation of a woman with child."

Bran felt heat come to his face as he looked at Ser Loras  only to hear his giggling. He looked up to see his sister’s eyes shining towards him with a silent laughter. "Well at least you look better than Sansa does, They have her in Targaryen purple, she looks like an interesting dessert.”

 

They both rolled their eyes and Loras shook his head before going back to their food. They were breaking fast on rye bread, expensive orange juice, and a smoked meat that had been cut into fine strips. Bran and Loras ate at a much faster pace than Arya. They finished and headed to the practice yard. As they left her husband entered. Jon had his cane and two guards behind him

 

"Are you still upset about what happened at the opening feast," Arya looked up from her plate to meet his eyes . "I thought you would not want to see me for a while,"

 

"Well you do hold my child, it is quite difficult to stay away," Jon gave her a very frosty smile that did not meet his eyes.

 

"Well that’s one way to keep your favor," Arya said with a hollow laugh. "Shall we sit through the opening together?" She knew that she had to at least go to the opening before she would be able to make excuses. Of course she would watch Bran but he wasn’t till mid day. Her husband hummed in agreement and held out his arm for her.

Her three sworn guards stood behind her.

"Mayhaps, after the tournament when the babe is born, we could go to the sea?" By then, they had gone to the stands that would be holding the watchers of the tourney would sit. They mounted the steps to the box they would sit in with the King. They sat beside each other in an almost uncomfortable silence.

Arya hummed her agreement, as she sat in silence. They rested there in relative silence exchanging smiles and the occasional words trying to not act like the strangers that they were. They could never really get to know each other as they were both very silent people. Jon was silent by nature and Arya was silent by choice.

This is my life, she realized. The meals they'd take as husband and wife in the great hall. Lord and Lady or within their own chambers. She suddenly began to pray for his death. She wished that he would just die so that he wouldn’t bother her with his _needs_ anymore.

Soon, she reminded herself.  He would not live forever and with his gout he might not live another decade. She wished for a live that was her own

"Yes that would be very nice Jon." He watched closely. She seemed like she was in pain

"Are you alright my dear? You seem quite distressed."

"What do you mean?"

"You had this pained expression,” he gave her a thoughtful glance, " Tell me if this is all too much for you, if need be I can make up excuses for the King."

She felt a hard kick just then and grabbed on to Jon for support. The problem there was that Jon was quite unsteady himself due to his advanced age. She clutched her belly and panicked while wobbling with Jon. The maester was notified and sent for his supplies. The maester reassured her that it was just the baby trying to make his way out and that it wouldn't be long before she felt labor pains. She went to her tent only to find that Shae and her staff were waiting, they laid her on the bed while the maester prepared. She cried and shamelessly called for her mother, not even caring that her mother hadn’t seen her in many years. . She felt the pains just then it was unlike anything she had ever felt. She looked at the Shae with tears in her eyes asking for her brother. She was crying too. She yelled for the maester to do something. In less than thirty minutes she had almost passed out three times from the pain, Jon as usual was nowhere to be found.

Shae pulled her hair back out of her face and whispered that she would be alright. She cried into the woman’s shoulder. The maester finally shouted. "My lady, I can see the baby's head. Push, my lady, push. You have to keep going my lady!"

Arya screamed at the pain but pushed, she was crying and sobbing aloud. She continued to push throughout the pain. She did not expected shae’s bright happy eyes to be peering at her and gasps from the maester. Then she heard the cries of a baby . She opened her eyes and saw the delighted face of Bronn and Shae. "A boy. You have a healthy and strong son Lady Arryn." He said happily. Arya and Shae cried at the same time. She wished her father could be here. "I want to see him." The maester handed her the baby. He cried loudly, he was an deeply red wrinkly baby. He had dark hair just like Ned and Bran, he opened his eyes, and they were grey just like hers. He would be a Stark more than an Arryn. She made that promise.

"He's going to be a great man." Arya said proudly. Never once had she felt such a deep connection to someone who wasn’t her brother. The baby resembled his father and brother. "I think he'll have yours and Bran’s hair and eyes m’lady." Bronn said with a proud smile. She smiled back. The Crown Prince and Sansa entered alongside Prince Jon.

"My lady your cousin is asking after you." The older man said carefully. "she wishes to come and see the child and make sure that you are well." She was sore and tired and now Sansa wanted to come see her. Sansa came and sat right beside the bed. She peered at Arya with curious eyes.

Jon shyly stood guarded from the other side of the room. "Uhem Lady Arya the Royal family wishes you and your son well and hope that."

"The House of Arryn thanks you for that."  Arya said seriously with a very gracious voice.

"Have you thought of a name Arya?" Sansa asked, she still seemed in awe of the baby. "I was thinking that maybe he could Rickard, after our Grandfather." She said softly caressing the baby's little face.

"Yes I’m sure father would be happy with that choice. Though it is a bit northern.” She answered as Arya cradled the baby's head as he nestled against her bosom.

 

"I think that it is very nice." Jon said with a furrowed brow. "Yes he will be a strong warrior as all Stark men are. He will do honor to the memory of Ser Eddard Stark." She smiled and nodded when Jon gingerly touched the forehead of little Rickard. Jon seemed entranced by the baby.  They sated for an hour more before leaving her to get rest with her son. She closed her eyes and was awakened by the voice of Bran.

"He is ours Arya. We will keep him safe. Raise him as one of us. The lone wolf dies but the pack survives." She smiled up at her brother. He had Rickard in his arms and was rocking him gently. He looked like ideal father. Young, handsome and a loving, caring man. Arya wished that she had married a man like her brother instead of Jon. He hadn’t shown up since she had fallen ill at the start of the joust

She felt a raw ache when she saw his tears. She took Rickard into her arms and Bran hugged the both. He was sure to be careful of the baby, she was happy he was here with her, like he always was. "What did you name him?" He asked her carefully.

"Rickard, Lord Rickard Arryn of the Vale." She said, not minding the mouthful that the mane was. "He will do great things." Arya said proudly. It was slightly fitting she thought, that she would have a child before Sansa and a boy none the less.

Bran nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "As my sister commands." He kissed her brow.

It was announced that little Rickard Arryn had arrived healthy to the tournament. The King sent his congratulations. Uncle Brandon sent a short congratulatory note and urged for her try for another child as soon as possible. She wrote back that she would do as he commands. She wished she could tell him that she would raise her child to hate Lord Brandon Stark but she was quite sure that he would not appreciate it. Her lord husband had the child presented to the court and all the old families of the vale cooed over their new heir. Arya recovered from the birth rather slowly as it was not easy on her small body. Her rooms became the nursery again. She moved to his quarters she slept alone for a while. Then he started again. It was constant, two months after Rickard was born he entered her room late one night. "I need a spare."

"Another child?" Arya asked once she had stood up. Jon was almost twice her size. She could see that he was giving her that look. The look she dreaded. A tear rolled down her cheek as he began.

"I’m… I am sorry,” Jon stood up from the bed and laced his breeches. "You know this is never what I wanted, but  I have a duty to my ancestors and the great house of Arryn."

"Thank you my lord for your _honor_." Arya said while running her fingers over the fabric of the bed sheets. Jon Arryn looked away, feeling the shame. He left very suddenly. Shae came in around an hour after and pulled off her soiled nightgown and bathed her. Arya always wanted a deep scrub after a visit from her Lord Husband.

""I shudder to even look at him, gods how much longer can I do this." She said honestly. She would have kill him I she thought she could get away with it.

Shae smiled sadly, "You can do this and you will. You have been through hell but you will survive," She patted. She asked for another wash as no matter what she did she never truly felt clean.

 

 


	2. A Bull among Stags

Her Husband announced Lord Robert and his court were coming to the Eyrie for three months during a meal around a year after the tourney. Arya was not sure why Jon was so happy to see the well-known brute– probably because of Robert being his ward– but immediately the court began to talk about what Robert’s reaction to Arya would be. It was known that the Baratheons still hated Rhaegar and were insulted Lyanna never picked Robert. The unwed daughters of the Lords of the Vale were whispering something about the Baratheon boys, but Arya did not bother trying to hear; she was an unhappily married women, and didn’t have time to gossip especially when boys were involved. Jon had gotten weirdly possessive of her.  
“I have heard Stannis’s son Gendry is handsome,” Shae said as she braided Arya’s hair, earning a sharp look from Arya. “And they say Joffrey is pretty as well. Though I have always preferred a strong man to a pretty little boy.”  
Arya gives her a smirk knowing she spoke of Bronn, Shae’s cheeks flushing pink. At five-and-ten, everyone said Arya had become a more handsome woman; Arya tried not to feel jealous of the love Shae had, but it was hard sometimes when hearing everyone around her seemed to get the love that they wanted. Sansa was the beautiful one, she actually wanted to wed a prince and of course did.  
“Flirting with boys my age,” Arya sighed. “It has been so long since I have done anything of the sort. When I lived with my Uncle the young Lords of the North called me Horse face.”  
Arya thought of Robb's wedding to Meera Reed a year earlier. When the news had been sent to the Eyrie Bran had smashed a chair. He took off riding alone. Three days later he turned up at the bloody gate covered in blood. She hadn’t been able to attend because she had been pregnant again. Her second child was named Nymeria. She was beautiful with fair hair and blue eyes. Jon had not come to see his daughter at all. He had only sent a message that said Not enough.  
They had gathered in the courtyard of the Eyrie. Now Ser Brandon Stark of the Eyrie stood by his sisters side by side. Jon sat in a chair nearby. He could no longer stand on his own but he somehow found his way to her bed each night. He now had to have a knight help him. She would stare up into the knights eyes. The young men no longer looked into her eyes as she passed.  
As a cool breeze scattered her hair, she declared, “I wish I hadn’t been the daughter of a lord.”  
She turned to meet Bran's gaze. “Then maybe I would have gotten to live as some old maid.. I hate it here more than ever.”  
The only reason her husband married her was so she could be a brood mare. He was dying and needed her. The most important thing for her now was to make sure that her children and her brother would be secure. She had already begun to talk to the nobles from around the Vale about regency and who would be in control. She knew that if she was appointed regent she could raise her children and she would never marry again.  
She wore an Arryn blue dress that was loose as her baby had only been born months earlier she had a necklace that was given to her by her brother that had a wolf engraved. Her long hair was in ringlets, the wind tumbled from its braid, and she was smiling as a good Lady did.   
It was quite cool that day, and Arya could feel the breeze slip through her hair, in the mid day sun that hit her she could see the faint glimmerings of the Stag Banners; Arya saw the Baratheon standards as she pilling into the courtyard and she knew she was going to entertain these people even though she was still recovering from her pregnancy. Clutching Bran, Arya attempted to greet the Lords with as much dignity as she could manage, her back positively screaming in pain.   
“Be careful sister!” Bran cried as she almost fell. “If you need to leave make sure you tell me, alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” she grunted, hanging on tighter. “When will these idiots get out here?”  
“I heard the Lady Cersei likes to make grand entrances.”  
Arya silently groaned as she began to hobble. She headed towards the carriage she felt an uneasiness. She did not know if she could host a grand lady, she could barely host her cousin who she hated. There were two carriages, one looking quit old and unfurnished of and the other was made with gold rims and intricate patterns of lions. The older carriage opened and the most handsome boy she had ever seen stepped out.  
He looked to be around her own age, he had broad shoulders; his hair was black and and his eyes were bright blue. Arya knew he must be Gendry, but, as she was the wife of Jon Arryn she held her breath and did not meet his eyes, Arya suspected he was some kind of womanizer as he was related to Robert.  
“Welcome to the Vale my Lord. I offer you the hospitality of house Arryn and hope that you enjoy your stay with us at the Eyrie,” she offered after a moment. He stared at her for a second before saying, “Ahh- Uhm Lady A-arryn it-it is an honor, no a pleasure to be here and uhm-”  
“May I honor you by introducing” she cut in, wobbling a bit as she tittered. Bracing her hand against her brother, she said, “My brother Ser Brandon Stark of the Eyrie.”  
“Brandon” he echoed, confusion took over his face before realization dawned. “You mean Bran? We squired together under the Blackfish- I mean Ser Brynden Tully, I didn’t know that he was staying with you… I assumed he would go back to the North,”  
Bran came up beside her and grasped Gendry’s arm “Yes, I’m here not freezing my fuckin’ balls off in the north you Baratheon bastard!”  
“For the love of the old gods and the new,” Arya groaned, and Bran laughed, an almost feral howl. With a sigh she said, “Can I trust you to not ruin the ceremony because you returned to your old friend?”  
“On my family's honor,” he swore. Bran rolled his eyes at Gendry’s seriousness. “And how will you do that? You’ll be standing with me,”  
Arya pretended she did not hear the friends banter. Jon was already worried she could not handle hosting. She stepped back up towards the second, prettier carriage. A beautifully aged woman stepped out along side a fat older man. They were odd and seemed to unsuited for each other.  
“Ugh Robert this place smells of horse shit.” She had heard that the Lady Cersei was abrasive but she thought that maybe it would have been a little less on the nose, and she had not expected it so early, She stepped up to the front and tried to greet the woman who had exited the carriage. “It is an honor to meet you Lady Cers- “

“Yes yes, thank you for greeting us.” She looked slightly annoyed, following her were three golden haired heirs. The tallest was slight in his build. He had green eyes that seemed to mimic his mother. The girl seemed quite unsure of what was going on. The younger boy smiled at her while holding a cat. Robert only grunted. Cersei looked around and added, “How quaint.”

“I offer you the finest rooms that we have. Ronnel’s tower is spacious and built for the Queen of the Mountain and the Vale,”

“Really? Its over three hundred years old? How repulsive. I suppose it’ll have to do.”  
Arya opened her mouth to reply but shut it as she knew that whatever she said would not help the situation; she motioned for one of her ladies in waiting to lead the family. She looked to Brand and Gendry who seemed to be laughing about an old joke. Sometimes she wished for a friend that was not her family, but she knew that they would disappoint her, like the rest.

 

She scoffed. “This might be the most atrocious feast I’ve ever been too.”  
Gendry smiled down at her, she couldn’t tell why but she felt something when he did. “I think my aunt won’t be happy as Robert tries to make the eight again.”  
Arya was confused, she had never heard of the phrase ‘make the eight’. As soon as Gendry said it his cheeks went red, “Oh my Lady I-no-that well…” Waiting until the boy stopped stuttering, Arya said, “Gendry, what is making the eight? I have never heard of such a thing.”  
The boy's smile became a grin. “Well my lady it is not a topic that comes up in polite conversation.” He leaned in getting close enough that she could feel his breath, he quipped, “I shall tell you if you ask nicely, Lady Arya.”  
Arya smirked and said, “No need Bran is coming right now so I can just ask him,” Gendry paled and began to stutter and Arya let out a cackle. Bran sat beside them and looked at both before asking Arya if she had broken his friend. She just smiled. Gendry looked at her with fear in his eyes as she was talking to her brother.  
The three then went up towards the head table. A spot beside Cersei was for Arya while Bran had a spot beside the Imp. Robert and Jon sat beside each other. She curtsied crudely to her husband and Robert.  
Robert laughed, his large belly jiggling. “It seems you've got some of Ned in ya, aint ya girl?”  
Her lord husband smiled frostily but Arya was certain he did not want to speak of her father, she knew from experience that it was not a subject he enjoyed as she saw the pain in his eyes. Robert was in the middle of telling the story of when he first met her father. Arya's eyes widened as she saw Gendry making faces at her. He smiled at her, amusement present on his face, and Arya wished she could walk up to Gendry Baratheon and smack him right in the mouth. just a stupid prince playing a trick. Arya tried not to look at his handsome face but she soon could feel herself smiling. She rushed to her seat beside Cersei. Cersei gave her a bored look and seemed to turn her nose up at the food.  
“So, Lady Arya how has it been in the Eryie?” Cersei said without looking at her. Arya smiled indulgently from her place. Arya watched as Cersei pushed the food around her plate without taking a bite, and she literally bit her tongue to keep from asking Cersei if she needed to be spoon fed, knowing it would only become a nasty battle of words. “The last time I saw you was your cousin’s wedding. Such a lovely little dove. Of course she has become pregnant has she not? You must be so proud that the.. Starks have become so prominent in the realm.”  
“Yes, it is such an… honor to have such a position in the Eryie.” Arya replied.  
“Your cousin marries the most handsome prince” Cersei continued, her voice as soft butter but what she was saying was as sharp as a knife. “But you have to marry Jon Arryn. You must have been so, happy.”  
Arya shut her eyes, as she felt the tears come to her eyes. When she opened them she could see the first emotion that wasn’t anger or annoyance on Cersei’s face, pity.  
“I was just like your cousin you know? My father promised me that I would be Queen but alas Elia Martell stole him and then your Aunt took him again. Robert was promised to your Aunt and of course now here I am. Married to a man who is still in love with a girl who would rather be hated by everyone than marry him.“  
“It may seem as if it will never get better” Cersei gently patted her shoulder, “but Jon Arryn will not live for much longer, and then- it can all be yours. Men may seem to have the power. Raise your son to love you above all others and you will be able to control him.”  
Arya could not contain herself anymore. “I pray for his death every night. He comes to me every night. He still says that it isn’t enough. My son who hasn’t even reached his third year has to watch me cry because of that monster.”  
Cersei’s green eyes filled with disgust. “When I married Robert he was quite handsome. Gendry reminds me of him. The first time he mounted me he called her name.”  
Arya hoped that her husband would leave, and then she'd never have to see him ever again.

She had been feeding Nymeria when Gendry had walked into her sitting room. He looked down at her exposed breast and turned bright red.   
“What can I do for me Ser Gendry? I hope you have a reason for entering my private tower.” He opened his mouth but no words came out. He looked more like a Tully with his jaw hanging like a trout.  
“I am sorry for disturbing you my Lady, “Gendry pointed to Nymeria, who nestled her breast, “What's her name?”

“Nymeria.” Handing her daughter off to Shae and walking out of the door into the courtyard with him, she asked, “I don’t understand why you are here Gendry.”  
“Because you might be the most interesting Lady I have ever met.” Gendry met her gaze unwaveringly. “I have never met someone like you. All of the women in the Stormlands and the only one similar to you is Brienne of Tarth and she is not nearly as pretty.”  
“I’m not pretty. I never wanted to be a lady.”  
“I was told you would entertain me this afternoon.” He reached over, taking hold of two wooden sword, “Do you often practice with swords?”  
Arya felt defensiveness rising in her chest. “What would you like me to beat you up? Or prove your manhood?”  
Gendry blinked in surprise at the aggressiveness in her voice. “No, I...” Sighing, , “Are you angered by the mere presence of me?”  
Recoiling, she snapped, “I am quite sorry, my lord, for not being ladylike for you.”  
“No my lady I like you the way you are. You are beautiful and-”  
“I am a married woman you cannot say these things to me!”  
Arya was filled with irritation after a day of walking about with Gendry. When she stepped out into the yard with Gendry she could see Bran sparing. While there were no women present, Arya sat upon a bench to watch the boys spar; Bran bested the Joffrey easily before going to disarm two members of the Royce family. Arya idly noted Gendry made no move to fight her brother, even when Bran had his back turned to him; he made his way towards Ser Estermont, and Arya dimly recalled that they were cousins.  
When Bran and Gendry began to cross swords, Bran was quite clearly better with his sword than Gendry, Arya found Gendry was much stronger, a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and Arya found herself wondering what he would look like without his breeches,. The fight continued with Gendry smashing his sword atop Bran’s shield. Finally Gendry smashed Bran’s shield hard enough that it shattered.  
The fight ended when Bran yielded after another brutal 10 minutes of combat. They both were sweating as they walked towards Arya. She clapped and stood as Bran Collapsed on the bench.   
Arya nodded. She was not sure why she patted Gendry’s head awkwardly, “You faired quite well Gendry. You may be one of the best swordsmen in the realm,” but Gendry did not seem to judge her for her awkwardness. In fact he seemed quite happy from the attention. Arya knew everyone thought that, because she had married well, she was somehow happier with her life, but of course that was the opposite of reality. Because of who she married she was filled with dread. He offered her his arm.  
“I was close to breaking but your brother relented,” Gendry revealed, his eyes following Bran as he put away his sword and armor. “Your brother let me win. He always felt bad for me. My father never wrote. Bran tried to cheer me up. We were the only foreign wards in Riverrun. Though he was lucky he always had your letters.”  
Arya understood what Gendry just confessed to her was something deeply personal. Arya turned red and revealed, “After my brother left I had no one in Winterfell. My cousin Sansa would frequently remind me how few friends in the world that I really had. Every time that I felt that I had no one to turn to I would write to Bran,”  
Gendry's laugh was pleasant, it was like a calm stream compared to the rapid river of his Uncle Robert. “I think that you are much better company than any lady that I have met in the past.”  
“If that were true, I wouldn't have spent all morning alone with no one to talk to in my room.” Fidgeting with her skirts, she ventured, “You are as well great company to have. There aren’t many that see my brother and I as friends.”  
“I do.”  
“That must be why so many think you’re odd.”

The friendship that Gendry and Arya had began to grow over the following month. They spent most of their days together. Gendry even took Rickard and Nymeria with them to many mid day picnics. She pictured a life married to Gendry away from the Eyrie. On a prominent feast night about half way through the visit Arya’s life changed forever.  
The feast had been going on for quite a while, people eating and dancing together, Arya sat with her son who kept trying to get up to walk. His stubby legs were not quite at full strength and would wobble and she would have to grab him. Nymeria was in her quarters with Shae. Bran was staying at their table but at the sight of Lady Hunter and her young daughter he stood to flee.   
"If you will excuse me, my sweet sister," he said, "I have to leave before I am proposed to."  
At least the girls are pretty, Arya thought, She knew that her brother had not yet healed from the scars that were left behind by Meera, Arya nodded absently as he got on his feet, leaving her alone as he made his away from the women. Hot breath touched her ear.  
"Is this seat taken, my Lady?"  
"Well it is now," she said, taking a sip of wine. He cleared his throat. Seating himself beside her and taking Rickard into his arms. Rickard’s laughter rang out and he tried to grab Gendry’s nose. Arya sighed looking at the perfectness that she saw. That was the family she ached for.  
"Your son is going to be a good man, my Lady."  
Arya smiled a little, she always found herself wishing that Rickard was Gendry’s and that they would live happily ever after, but she was faced with the reality that she would have to see the sickly Jon Arryn, that night and again and again until the filthy fuck died.  
"If he ends up to be half the man you are I’ll be happy." She gave him a small smile. He returned a much larger one. His blue eyes made her heart melt and the feeling of joy consumed her.  
"I know that he will be much better my lady."  
“Don’t be stupid. You’re not that bad."  
"It’s nice to know you have such a high opinion of me."

When Arya feigned sadness and regret, he looked quite unsure. She knew full well what he was feeling, the insecurity of their relationship. The fact that they only had two more weeks together.  
"We need to talk about this."  
"Is that what you are worried about? That we will somehow lose this connection when I leave-."  
"I can’t let you leave without saying properly how I feel Gendry-"  
She glanced around to make sure nobody was in their vicinity. They had sat at the back of the hall as the rest of the court.  
"You have changed the way I live my Lady," he managed to say. "I think that- I feel that- I know that you feel the same and I will visit-"  
"Don’t, not until tonight," Arya cut him off, "Come after Jon leaves. I’ll make sure Shae keeps a lookout,"  
She gave him a smirk.  
"I know that you will enjoy your gift,"  
"Uh oh yes I think I will my Lady." Gendry said with a gulp.

 

"You look just like your Aunt," Robert’s voice said behind Arya's back, causing her to freeze. "And ya speak like she did too."  
She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She had left her seat at the table to walk back to her room, but as soon as she had entered the court yard. She made her lips form a tight smile as she turned towards him. He stumbling towards her with ale stained around his beard.  
"I am sure that I do," Arya replied. "My father always told me that I had the Stark look."  
"Ahh Ned what a fucking man," he said. “Do you know what your fucking father did for me?"  
"I am sure that my father did many things for you." she carefully answered trying not to upset him. "You were after all, his very best friend.”  
He grabbed her free wrist tightly. She held her breath and looked up at the giant of a man. He was still in great shape and had strength. His eyes were bloodshot.  
"When my brother Stannis married his Florent wife, her cousin, the little minx she was asking for it.” He said, his fingers digging deeper into her flesh, "I fucked that lady and the Florents demanded that I take her as a husband, I didn’t want the used bitch so your father took her as a wife."  
Arya closed her eyes. She couldn’t believe that her father had done that, her mother. Her entire existence was because the man in front of her had disgraced her mother. He bent over, whispering into her ear.

"Do you think you are the product of love? Your mother was a fucking whore just like your aunt. I should have had your fucking Aunt. I was the one promised to her! One day they will all pay for their treachery! Would you like that?"  
He moved back, still holding her wrist, his face cruel and ruthless as her entire body shook beneath him. All of her usual fearlessness was gone and in its place stood the scared fifteen year old girl.  
"You wouldn't? It won't matter. After your father died I care not for the house of Stark, but I'll have my way with you one way or another."  
Arya felt a hand on her shoulder, and Robert’s fingers finally let go of her. Arya turned her head to the side and saw Gendry. His eyes filled with fury and hatred. Robert met his glare with one of his own.   
"I am sorry to intrude, my Uncle, but I've been told by your wife that your presence is requested back in the great hall."  
The battle of unspoken glares continued for minutes until without another word to Robert turned and walked in an unsteady line back towards the hall.  
"I-I thank you," she whispered.  
"Fuck Robert Baratheon," he said, "My Uncle is a fool and a drunk, in his whole life he has only accomplished losing his betrothed to a married man."  
She gave him a shaky smile, her eyes watering after the truth about her mother revealed.  
“I know that he cannot hurt me. His words hurt more than his hands."  
Gendry’s frown deepened, his fingers traced the bruises that had been left by s traced the bruises that had been left by Robert’s hands.  
"Did he do this to you?"  
For a moment Arya stayed silent as his hands began to shake. In that moment she saw the resemblance between Gendry and Robert. The Baratheon temper was quite well known.  
"No its fine Gendry I don’t want any more issues with him-“  
"Did he?" Gendry insisted.  
"It's nothing," she quickly replied, "Or at least it will be nothing. He cannot hurt me here and we never have to worry about him again."  
Gendry shook his head, glancing around the empty courtyard. The silence was building as he slipped his hand around her waist.  
"I will protect you I promise," he said.  
"I know that you will," Arya agreed. "I’ve never felt like this before."  
"I’m not sure that I should be seeing this," Bran's voice rose from behind the pair, "May haps my good friend should remove his hands from my sister,"

Their eyes turned on Bran, and Arya blushed, He stood grinning. Gendry had told him of his growng love of his sister and he had been all for it, it had been along time since he had seen his sister smile. Arya removed herself from Gendry’s grasp and hugged her brother. His arms held her tight and she sighed softly.   
"Well well," Joffrey's voice rang out loud in the silence, "My cousin has done quite well for himself in the Vale."  
His eye met with Gendry's: there was a almost a challenge in those words. Cruelty met with fierceness. Gendry stepped towards Joffrey and toward over him. His fist clenched. Joffrey stepped back. Cruelty was replaced with slight fear as he scampered off.   
"Don’t think I won’t tell mother!" he claimed, "Just because you practice with that sword doesn’t mean you can hurt me."  
Joffrey ran back and Bran let out a snicker. Arya and Gendry began to walk back towards her Tower. As they passed the door to the bedroom that had been prepared by Shae, they stood facing each other, their eyes connected as Gendry remove his shirt. Arya undid the back of her dress and let it fall to the ground. Gendry looked down at her naked form. Her hair had been undone and was over her shoulders, the brunette curls falling down her shoulders and hiding her small breasts. His strong chest was breathing heavily. His blue eyes staring intently into hers.  
Arya felt herself blushing under his gaze, his eyes held something very primal that had an element of hunger. Why was he looking at her like that? She had never seen herself as very pretty. He grasped her waist and brought it close to his. There was tension in the room, it was hot and heavy, until Arya couldn't take this heavy silence anymore.  
"I'm... I'm not sure how you like this. With Jon it is always very quick. I-I am not quite sure-," she confessed.  
He wanted to tell her that he had never laid with a woman, but he kept that thought to himself. Feeling unsure of how to procced, he brought them towards the bed, glancing at her beautiful body yet again. Her soft hair had been braided and twisted for the feast, making her normally straight hair wavy as it fell down her shoulders and on her breast her body was flushed as he ran his hands over her skin- only when he met with her eyes did he touch his lips to hers. He touched her hand, and her fingers entangled themselves with his. As their hands joined, her whole body was pushed into his. She could feel his hard member throbbing between her legs  
"May I take you my Lady?" he asked softly. "You are the only thing in this world that I desire."  
"Yes, My Lord..."  
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Gendry took a deep breath before leaning in to kiss her lips gently. He touched her breast with his free hand, his fingers trailing on around her hard nipples and going lower to cup her womanhood. She let out a gasp as his fingers slid in. He kissed her harder then. It was much more urgent Arya deepened the kiss, her tongue met his, who responded to his newly found fierceness: his hand found its way back to the roundness of a breast and Arya let out another little moan in pleasure.  
Gendry’s hand squeezed her breast gently, sending shivers all over Arya’s body, and she dug her fingers in his back in an attempt to get closer: after a while her hand trailed down his chiseled stomach, and her hand gripped his member and he let out a large moan. As Gendry's lips began to trail down around her womanhood she arched her back and felt her legs opening up lightly to his touch: he kissed her gently right there, and a pleasured sigh left her mouth.  
Her hips began moving uncontrollably, following the kiss he began to go further and there was a fire burning in her, a fire that kept growing the more he went, a euphoric scream escape her lips. Arya thought she might explode, pleasure touching every corner of her body. She felt him against her legs and she looked into Gendry’s eyes. A fire had awoken in him, his erected manhood brushing against her womanhood. He kissed her hard and brought her atop him, and only then did Arya know that she had fallen in love with this man.  
"Mount me," he told her in a hushed voice, "Fuck me my pretty little she wolf,"  
She managed to give him a seductive smile.  
"I'm ready," she assured him.  
Arya began lowering her slowly as Gendry bit his lip from letting out a shout, and Gendry's eyes widened when she kept lowering to the bottom. Her grasp on his hand tightened as she went on. She began to ride him. This sensation inside of her, she felt it build again. It didn't take very long for him to reach his peak: burying his face into her neck, he heaved a pleasured sigh to her ear as he lost himself inside of her for one final thrust. Although she was still aching a little, she could feel his seed inside of her. Arya tilted her head to the side, looking at Gendry, She smiled at him tentatively. He smiled back and kissed her softly. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.   
"I-I think that I’m in love with you," he said hesitantly. Worrying that he'd done something wrong.  
"I am defiantly in love with you,"  
He smirked, and she felt herself blush. He kissed her neck hard  
"I don’t think that I could ever feel this way,"  
She bit her lower lip.  
"Would you stay with me?" she finally whispered after gathering enough courage.  
He nodded his head and put his arms around her body and bringing her close to his body. Arya quickly fell asleep, a smile lingering on her lips.


	3. Gendry POV

The sky cell were cold and damp and smelled of piss, just like the rest of the Eyrie. Gendry watched the slow, steady drip of rancid liquid while mentally reciting the events that had led to this. He had long since abandoned the hope of freedom, but after roughly three months of being imprisoned. He had woken up to Jon Arryn and his knights dragging him from his bed. He only gave the reason that he had ‘dishonored me”. Robert had only grunted and nodded. While it wasn’t said that it was because of his relationship with Arya he knew. He had screamed for them to let him go. Silence. The wind was his constant companion. He had almost rolled to his death many times.  
His father had sent word that he was disowned for ending up imprisoned in a dungeon. Since he had been imprisoned his only visitor was Ser Bronn, Bronn had tried to raise his spirits but he knew that Arya had been imprisoned to her chambers. The court was told she was ill but Bronn had told him that Jon had her beaten to an inch of death. It was too much, his bravery had gone a month in. He had been broken as he screamed for his mother. Considering he had tried to flee after his cell was opened to clean it, they had beaten him until his finger were all broken on his left hand.  
When Gendry heard rapid footsteps approaching, he assumed it must be the usual guard coming to deliver his daily beating and maybe some gruel. He had been forgotten for two days before, but that might have been too kind. The guard was not a nice man, but he had a knack for causing pain and using small knifes to wake him before being served gruel. His stomach twisted in hunger and desperation at the thought of more time within the cell, there would be nothing else to think of. How long before your next meal, or could he last that long.  
Of course, his feelings for Arya had not diminished. He kept telling himself that he would find a way back to her. He knew that she would not stray from him. Bronn had not visited since he had been moved to a lower cell. The man’s absence was abrupt—Gendry had sensed that he might have been disallowed from visiting him. As unfair as it was to do that, Gendry Understood that Jon Arryn was trying to break him completely. Gendry couldn't help but feel worried for Arya's safety and spent hours worrying about her. She was growing rather restless at the thought of what they might be doing to her.  
Instead of the cruel guard that was to be expected two knights flanked by Jon Arryn came to stand before her cell. From the set of his shoulders and the clench of his jaw, he could see he was furious.   
"Do you know why I have imprisoned you here?" Lord Arryn demanded  
"My uhm, relationship with Lady Arryn was inappropriate.”  
And I loved every second I was with her, he thought to himself, but he also knew it would be extremely unwise to mention any details as he was not sure what the man had known. As far as Jon Arryn knew, the extent of the relationship had been a kiss. Perhaps Lord Arryn did not know that he had layed with her five times each one better than the last.  
"I could have you thrown out the moon door for this kind of treachery! You have dragged the Honor of house Arryn through the mud! Honor is what I will die with and you have besmirched it and my wife." sweats broke out all over Gendry’s body. As much as he loved Arya he did not wish to die here. He began to cry tears a streaming down his face.  
"I won’t kill you though. My wife has begged for your life many times."

They stared at each other, Gendry hunched against a wall and the proud Lord Arryn sitting in his wheel chair. For all his faults, Gendry did not look away. After many months of existing amidst the filth, being thrown from the moon door would be an awful way to end. To see exactly where his demise was going to be. Even worse, it would put this terrible and wondrous life at an end.  
An eternity passed in the few seconds of silence before Lord Arryn spoke again.  
"Stand in front of me Gendry Baratheon," he rasped. The Knights hovering over rushed to obey. Gendry scrambled to his feet and waited as the as Jon Arryn got to his feet. His clammy, sweaty hands stayed deathly still at his side. His heart hammered within his chest. He willed it to slow, but not even his mind could slow his body in this moment. He knew this judgement would be forever. I will not cry, he told himself firmly.  
"You will take the black," Lord Jon Arryn said. Gendry blinked rapidly, confused by this judgement. He knew that if he took the black he would never see Arya again. " You will never return to the Vale or the Stormlands. Do not write to my wife or anyone at this court. If I ever lay eyes on you again boy you’ll wish you were never born."  
His voice seemed to have fled from his body. Gendry drew a deep breath before forcing the air out through his frozen lungs. "As you command my Lord,"

"Yes as I command as it is my home you dishonored," he said. From his tone, Lord Arryn seethed anger at the prospect of Gendry living, but his face betrayed no emotion beyond his frown was present. "My wife tells me you came to love her. Know that she will never see your face again Gendry Baratheon."  
Gendry Baratheon laid his head in his knees and wept.


	4. Daena

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Blackfyres are introduced.

Daemon Blackfyre had lost almost everything. His grandfather Maelys had wasted most of the families last resources on his war among the Nine Penny Kings. The boy was not yet twelve years yet he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. His mother had smuggled him out of Tyrosh when his father was assassinated and they now had no money and no friends to help them out. Daena Blackfyre, his mother believed that this was the end of their house.  
He had no money, which was nothing new. He had too few men, which very nearly rendered his cause hopeless. Of the thousands his Grandfather had sailed with to take the Iron Throne, only a little more than 300 remained due to deaths and desertions and like of money.   
He had a handful of ships—pitiful for the former King of the Pirate Isles. Of the few ships that survived the journey across the narrow sea, most were in dire need of repair, and a number would probably have to be salvaged for parts. There was little hope for the exiled boy King.  
Daemon felt like crying as he stood aboard the King Maelys Revenge. He looked from his mother to Ser Davos, then back to the his mother. Davos was honorable. The former smuggler had gotten them off of the Bloodstone Isle, saving both his life, and his mother. He had been knighted and made his Hand.   
"When will this end Mother?" he demanded. Davos glanced at Daena, whose cheeks were flush from the cold winds. Her dark eyes sparkled, undaunted by his curtness.  
"We will close in on the island, Your Grace." His Hand shifted uncomfortably from behind hem, his expression bemused. He had spent most of his life in service to the boy. He felt an almost paternal bond to his young King. "We traveled far. It will only be a short while."

 

Braavos was not beautiful by any means. It was an interesting sight to see the Titan but it didn’t have the glory of Myr or Old Volantis.  
Daena stood on the deck of the ship. The king had been quiet and distracted as they had gotten closer. His mother did not fault him—it would take some work for Davos and Daena to strike a deal with the Iron Bank. Her family did not have a successful record of wars against the Iron Throne, after all. While he did not seek out his mothers company, she always checked on him to make sure he was well. Daemon spent most of his time in his cabin, reading their family chronical. He ignored her, for the most part, even when she discretely set out some tea and stale biscuits in an effort to remind him that he still needed food to live. Her son took after her rather than her father. Daemon had her blue eyes and silver hair held back into a ponytail. He had waved her away.

As excruciatingly dull as the journey to Braavos was not entertaining but she had already had enough action. She had dressed in her finest silks for presentation to the Iron Bank. She'd finished up her letter that had her financial plan.  
As soon as the trio stepped into the grand room of the Iron Bank she felt that the men in front of her were just waiting to reject their case. Finally, the heavy doors at the back of the room opened to admit the panel of bankers who would apparently hear the request. Daena took a position behind both her son and Davos, standing nearer to the door. She knew that as a woman she could not seek the audience. She had no role here besides to simply observe.  
"What is this woman doing here?” The banker sounded astonished. His words echoed across the room, accompanied by angry murmurs from the other Bank representatives. He looked at her with disdain.

"This is my mother and my chief advisor," Daemon said after a moment, hoping to quell their outrage. It wasn't as if she meant to capture the bankers' attention. "I always keep her near. She has a working knowledge of how to run a Kingdom."

"You are a King without a Kingdom."

"My son is the rightful King of Westeros, my lord," she responded. "We have a plan as to how to create dissent among the nobility of the country." She wished the banker would stop questioning her as it would draw away from their plans.  
The banker made a sound that sounded like skepticism. "You believe a Blackfyre is a good investment?" His piercing stare did not waver, and Daena resisted the urge to scowl at the insult that he had dealt her family  
It did not surprise her in the least that the bankers were reluctant to loan money to the Blackfyre cause. It did surprise her that Davos' impassioned plea appeared to sway their opinion. Davos spoke of the many Targaryen heirs that even now ready themselves for a war of succession.  
“Do you really think that the Crown Prince Aegon will repay any of the debt that his father owes you?” Davos asked. The Bankers looked at each other in confusion.   
Daena stepped in, “Viserys has married Lady Maergery Tyrell, they now reside at Highgarden. Olenna didn’t give away the pride of Highgarden for nothing.”  
Again the Bankers began to scribble things down. The main man looked at her slyly, “How will this boy be able to win against highly trained Westerosi armies? You have to have a realistic chance of winning.”  
“We can be sure that after the war starts that these armies will clash. If we have a well funded mercenary company that is able to fight untrained peasantry, then we have a good chance of winning.”  
“Wouldn’t you like to back someone who actually is promising to pay you.” Davos said strongly. For many minutes they spoke in hushed whispers before the main banker stood, “You have your loan King Daemon, but know that this will not be a easy path for you.”


End file.
